His Unexpected Family

Suddenly a Mother

When a baby is dropped into her life without warning, Emily Shaw is overjoyed. It's a bit odd that her distant cousin named single Emily as guardian, but she's thrilled all the same. She never thought she'd get to be a mom. Another unexpected blessing is that baby Cora arrives in the arms of police chief Greg Taylor. Despite all three of them instantly bonding, Greg has promised himself he'll never be a father. And now Emily's smooth-talking relative is challenging her right to raise Cora. Will Emily have to make an impossible decision between the child she already loves and the man who loves her?

About the AuthorPatricia Johns has been writing novels ever since she graduated from her honors degree in English Literature. After some agonizing, she quit her responsible full-time job in favor of something more flexible and poured herself into her writing. She's never looked back. After having several historical novels and children's books published, she turned to romance writing.

Patricia lives with her husband and son in Alberta, Canada.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Emily was expecting a baby. In fact, she was expecting the little one to arrive that very afternoon, and every car that passed by on the road outside made her look up. She attempted to keep herself occupied by sorting through the boxes of decorations she'd taken from her kindergarten classroom the week before, but the distraction wasn't working terribly well.

Emily looked down at the laminated cards with big, colorful letters printed across them. As she absently arranged them and tucked them into an envelope to be used in September, her eyes flickered back toward the window. Her plan had been to get as much work out of the way as she could before little Cora arrived, but perhaps that had been overly ambitious. Pulling her dark waves away from her face with one hand, she dropped the envelope on top of a box of art supplies.

The crunch of tires on her gravel drive made her look up again, her eyes trained out the window. A police cruiser eased behind her SUV, and before the driver's-side door even opened, Emily pushed herself out of her seat and went to open the front door.

The police officer faced away from her as he leaned into the backseat. Broad shoulders tapered down to a strong back, and she half expected him to lift some heavy weight from the car. But then he straightened and turned toward her, a baby car seat in one hand, his steel-blue eyes moving over her matter-of-factly.

"Miss Shaw?" he said.

"Hi," Emily said. "Yes, that's me."

"Sorry I'm late." He walked across the last of the drive to the shade of her front door. His biceps flexed under the weight of the car seat, and he gave her a professional smile. "It's nice to meet you in person. I'm Chief Greg Taylor. We spoke on the phone."

"Yes, yes, absolutely." She stepped back to let him inside, and as he passed her, his arm brushing hers, she could just detect the musk of his cologne.

He was better-looking than she'd given him credit for during their telephone conversation. With close-cropped blond hair, going just a tiny bit gray at the temples, he had a calm and collected look about him. His blue eyes seemed to take in every detail as his gaze swung around the room. He placed the car seat on the couch, and Emily moved closer to the little bundle, bending down to peek at the tiny face.

The baby was sleeping, a baby girl so tiny that Emily was almost afraid to touch her. She had a downy frosting of red hair on top of her head, and her skin was so pale that Emily thought she was nearly translucent. The little thing lay there in the car seat, her small pink tongue sticking out in her sleep, and Emily let out a soft sigh.

"There she is." Emily touched one little hand, feeling the baby-soft skin. When she looked up, she saw Chief Taylor watching her thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry about your cousin." He pressed his lips together. "Were you close?"

"Not really." Emily felt slight embarrassment flush her cheeks. "I didn't know she trusted me this much…you know, leaving me as guardian in her will."

"How long since you saw her last?" he asked.

"Years…maybe five or six?" Emily tried to recall the last time she and her cousin had been in the same room. It had been some sort of family reunion, and she was pretty sure it was the time that one of her uncles broke his leg falling off the porch.

"She obviously thought a lot of you."

Emily nodded. "She was quite private. I mean, we were Facebook friends, but she didn't really post anything. I didn't know much about what was going on with her."

"It's understandable." He gave her a sympathetic smile and made a couple of notes on a pad of paper.

"I didn't know she was pregnant," Emily added. "She didn't tell anyone." She looked back down at the tiny baby and shook her head sadly. "But looking at Baby Cora, there is no denying who her mother was."

Emily bent down and unbuckled the harness. Cora wriggled as Emily slid a hand under her little rump and lifted her out of the car seat. The infant nestled into Emily's arms, snuggling close, and she felt a wave of tenderness for the tiny thing.

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked. "Do you need social services to come give you a hand with anything?"

"Social services?" Emily laughed softly. "Do we even have social services in Haggerston?"

"Well, social services consists mostly of Madge Mid-dleton. She's a foster mom who gives some pretty sound advice." He shot her a wry grin.

"My mother would be insulted. Don't you worry about me. I have a big family with lots of women just waiting to tell me exactly how to do things."

"Good." He seemed to relax. "You'll be fine, then. I probably know some of your family."

"In a place this size, it's hard not to." She laughed. "You graduated high school a few years before me."

"Really?" He eyed her with an amused look. "Are you related to Steve Shaw, by any chance?"

"My cousin."

"Well, now I'm going to have to root out my old yearbook." He chuckled softly, the sound oddly comforting.

"Oh, don't. Ninth grade wasn't graceful." Emily rolled her eyes. "Trust me. I was entirely forgettable."

He gave a slow smile and tapped his notebook with a nub of a pencil. "Can I see your ID?"

"My ID?"

"Policy. I've got to make sure you are who I think you are before I leave a baby with you."

"Oh, of course…" She blushed and headed to the kitchen to grab her wallet. While she rummaged through her bag, she mentally chastised herself. He was here on business, not here to flirt with her. Finding her wallet with one hand and holding the baby in the other, she came back to the living room, determined to be nothing but professional herself.

"How are you doing for baby things?" he asked while he looked over her ID.

"I think I'm all right."

"The officers at the station brought in a few things from home, if you're interested," he said, raising his eyes from her driver's license and meeting hers with a steady gaze that made her cheeks feel warm. "The officers who have kids, that is."

"Oh, that's really nice," she said. "Thanks."

"Should I drop them by tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, thanks. I really appreciate this, Chief. Thank them for me."

Chief Taylor handed her back her license and gave her a formal smile. "Take care. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

With that, Greg Taylor, the handsome chief of police of Haggerston, Montana, trotted down her front steps and got back into the squad car. Emily looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. Cora's little hands lay limply across her chest, and she let out a deep sigh in her sleep. She was a beautiful little thing, and looking down at her, she felt an involuntary wave of love.

Oh, Lord, she prayed silently. Is this real? Is she really going to be mine?

As she watched Greg's car pull out of her drive and disappear, she smelled something, and she laughed softly to herself. Well, one thing was very real tonight, and it was this diaper. It looked as though things were just beginning!

As Chief Greg Taylor walked back into the Hagger-ston Police Station, he stifled a yawn. It had been a long day, to say the least, and as he strode through the town's small station, the officers he passed glanced up and gave him polite nods. The station always looked busy, with telephones ringing, officers coming and going and the general hubbub that came with twenty-odd people focused on their own work. It might not be considered much compared to a city station, but for a place the size of Haggerston, it was something. It might look like chaos to an untrained eye, but to Chief Taylor, who had spent his entire adult career as a cop, it was a smoothly oiled machine…or at least as oiled as discipline, training and several gallons of coffee could make it.

"Hey, Chief!" A sergeant waved a file at him. "Some paperwork from that 11-80 the other day. You want it on your desk?"

"I'll take it." Chief Taylor grabbed the file on his way by and headed around the desks toward his office at the far side of the station. He tossed the file on his desk and swung the door shut behind him. He stood in the relative quiet and glanced at his watch. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number to the Shady Pines Nursing Home.

"Shady Pines," the nurse's voice sang.

"Hi, this is Chief Taylor. I'm just wondering how my mother is doing."

"Hi, Chief, this is Fran. Your mom had quite a good day. She had her favorite dinner tonight—Salisbury steak."

"Oh, good." He felt the smile come to his lips. "And how is she…otherwise?"

"She's been confused." Sympathy entered the nurse's tone. "She wouldn't let us bathe her today, but we're hoping that by later this evening, she'll be calmer. Sometimes evening routines have a more relaxing effect on her."

Greg ran a hand through his hair. "Do you need me to come by?"

"You're always welcome, Chief, but she's been very wary around men again today. I'm not sure it would do much good."

He nodded, more to himself than to the nurse on the other end of the call. "Well, keep me posted. I'll call back later."

"Absolutely, Chief. You have a good evening."

He hung up the phone and picked up the file on his desk. His shift had been over for two hours already, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to go home. His mind was still on that 11-80.

11-80. It was easier to refer to it numerically than to voice the reality of the situation. It had been a terrible car accident with crumpled metal, leaking fuel and a gravely injured driver. The semitruck that hit the ...